


The Padawan Braid

by carmarie



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: F/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Storytelling, a lil kissing, implied order 66
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-13 14:22:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3384998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carmarie/pseuds/carmarie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the Jedi Order dissolved around him, he changed his name and discarded everything else... everything except his lightsaber, and his padawan braid. Those they would never take from him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Padawan Braid

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dyingsighs](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=dyingsighs).



The sun on Lothal rose slowly, creeping through the pale sky like wisps of steam off a warm mug of caf. Everyone on the Ghost was still asleep except for two. The door to Hera’s bedroom hissed shut behind Kanan as he shuffled back inside. He handed Hera a cup of freshly-brewed caf and sat on the bed next to her.

“Thanks,” she said, and took a sip. It was still too hot to drink, so she laid it in a cubby set into the wall to cool for a moment.            

She turned back to Kanan. He didn’t look like he was fully awake yet, but Hera knew how to fix that. She leaned in close and planted a kiss on his jaw. Slightly scratchy. “Looks like you need a shave,” she commented.

He smiled, cupping her face as he returned the kiss sleepily. Hera’s hands found the back of his neck and she ran her fingers through his soft unbound hair. Foreheads touching, they sat still for a moment, then Hera turned to test the caf again. It was still too hot, and she turned back to Kanan.

“You know, it’s really not up to me how you do your hair, but…” her fingers wound around a strand of hair close to the base of his skull that was longer than the rest.  “How come you keep this one bit long? You could just use elastic to tie your hair back, not this. Doesn’t one long piece bother you?”

Kanan froze and Hera bit her lip, fearing she’d said the wrong thing. It happened sometimes, where something mundane she said struck a strange chord with him. Usually it regarded something from his past that he chose to keep hidden from her, even after everything they’d been through in the past few years.

She drew her hand back. “Kanan, I’m sorry, I-”

He took a deep breath and blew the air out slowly. “No, no,” he murmured. “You’re actually… you’re right.”

Kanan didn’t say anything more, he just leaned forward staring at a point on the floor, elbows resting on his knees.  

“What is it?” Hera hazarded uneasily.

“I- hm.” He turned to face her, but didn’t meet her eyes. He drew the strand of hair over his right shoulder, rolling it between forefinger and thumb. “It’s a… an old Jedi thing.”

“Wearing your hair like that?”

A ghost of a smile traced Kanan’s lips as he attempted nonchalance. “Yeah. Pretty ridiculous hairstyle, huh?”

“I don’t think so.” Hera pulled her feet in to sit cross-legged and look at him.

“Padawans used to do it. We wore our hair short except for this one bit. It was, uh, a braid. Once.”

Hera sat, listening, waiting for him to continue. He didn’t. “Are you going to tell Ezra about it?”

Kanan let go of the long strand. It wasn’t braided, and she’d never seen it that way. He just wrapped it around his hair when he tied it up in the morning and went about his day. Sabine and Zeb probably didn’t even know about it, and she was sure Ezra had never noticed.

“I don’t know.” Kanan stood suddenly, pacing restlessly around the room. “You see, the thing…” He faltered, and then the words tumbled out of his mouth. “The tradition is that, when a padawan becomes a knight, the master cuts the braid with a lightsaber.”

Hera’s lips parted and she sucked in a jagged breath. Of course. And Kanan’s master was long dead, so he’d had no one to cut the braid. “Oh, Kanan…” she whispered, understanding his discomfort. She stood as well, reaching her hands to touch his forearms. “Your master never cut the braid.”

Kanan’s eyes slid closed. “No,” he said tiredly.

“And you never…”

“I just couldn’t do it.”

Hera reached for the dangling long strand again, drawing her palm beneath it until it fell. 

Kanan let a puff of air out through his nose in what might have been a wry laugh. “And now I have a padawan of my own.” Then he looked down and shook his head, adding under his breath, “never saw _that_  one coming.”

They sat together back on the edge of the bed. “I don’t know much about the Jedi Order other than what you’ve told me, but… don’t you have to be a knight to have a padawan?”

Kanan leaned back on his palms and gazed at the ceiling. “Yes,” he admitted.

Hera frowned. Of course, he was uneasy about teaching Ezra. He’d confided in her about this before, confessing he didn’t feel he was up to the task, especially since he’d hardly had proper training as a Jedi himself. His apprehension she felt, was understandable…

But unfounded.

Kanan was capable of doing things Hera couldn’t do in her wildest dreams. Sure, she was a mean pilot and could outfly him any day, but Kanan… she would trust him with her life. With the lives of her crew, the wayward family they’d become among the stars.  

And Hera knew what she had to do. She paused for a moment to pick the right words. “Kanan,” she began carefully, “have you never cut that braid because you still believe yourself to be a padawan?”

He looked at her in bewilderment. Internally Hera winced. She knew Kanan didn’t like to talk about his time as a padawan much, and now here she was pressing him about it. She opened her mouth to retract the question-

“No,” Kanan answered, cutting her off. “I’m not… I’m not anything. I guess I’m stuck somewhere in the middle.” He let out a long breath.  “I should have cut it off a long time ago.”

Hera stared at him silently, face crinkled in sympathy.

But instead of trailing off and shutting down as usual, Kanan continued. “It was a different life,” he explained. “I was someone else. Back then, I had a different name.”

Curiosity got the better of Hera. “What was it?” she asked impulsively.

“Caleb Dume.”

“Caleb Dume…” she repeated in a whisper. Her Kanan…

“Yeah. Caleb Dume,” he said again, as if he hadn’t tasted the name in a long time. “When I had to go … undercover…  The braid was too recognizable.” His words were uneven like he was skirting around a subject he didn’t quite want to talk about.  “Only padawans wore their hair like that. And I knew I couldn’t wear a hood forever. But I couldn’t do it, Hera. I grew out the rest of my hair to hide it instead. Cutting it was … something my master was supposed to do at the end of my training. But she’d never… do that. I thought cutting it would be an insult to her memory. To… to all the Jedi.”

 Hera put a hand on his shoulder reassuringly. Somehow… despite whatever it was he was skipping over, his reasons made sense. Her hand lowered to trace the small of his back lightly, and she rested her head on his shoulder. “Kanan… I think that if your master could see you now, she’d be very proud of you.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah. You’re someone’s master now, too.”

Kanan sighed. “I guess I am.”

“Do you think you’ll keep your hair like that forever?”

There was a pause, then he said, “No. You were right. I should cut it.”

“What made you change your mind?”

“You know, there was something with Ezra the other day.  _Do or do not, there is no try_.” His cheek rested against her forehead, bare without her goggles in the early morning. “I told him that I wouldn’t try to teach him anymore.”

Her head lifted as she looked at him in surprise. “You told him  _what_?”

Kanan smiled. “If I say I’ll try to do something, that means I don’t truly believe I can do it. So from now on, I will teach him.”

“Oh.” Hera settled her head back where it was, and Kanan’s head rested back upon hers.

“He teaches me a lot, too, you know.”

“I know.”

“My master used to say that to me. That good teachers learn from their students.”

“You are a good teacher, Kanan,” said Hera.

He didn’t reply to the compliment, but she felt his cheek pull back in a smile. “So I guess it’s time to give my padawan braid the ol’ chop.”

“If you think you’re ready…”

“Yeah. I think so.”

“Will you do it yourself? Or do you want me to….” Hera trailed off.

“You know?” Kanan sat up straight, and looked frankly at Hera. His blue-green eyes had a sparkle in them that she hadn’t seen in a while. “These are strange times for the Jedi. Chaos knows we can hardly afford to do things by the books. Maybe I’ll flip tradition on its head.”

“How so?”

“I think I’ll ask Ezra to do it.”


End file.
